


i repeat your name until i forget mine

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alucard and Trevor are both trans, Anal Sex, Banter, Body Worship, Enthusiastic Consent, Heat Sex, M/M, Neediness, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: He could tell Trevor the truth; the worst thing he could do is laugh and claim he’s taking advantage of what little a Belmont like him knows about vampire or half-vampire biology. Or perhaps there’s still some part of Alucard that feels a twinge of embarrassment whenever he thinks about it.
Relationships: Alucard/Trevor Belmont
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	i repeat your name until i forget mine

**Author's Note:**

> stress relief fic written between the more serious and story driven ["end of sanctuary"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709258/chapters/59723074/). 
> 
> also brought on by a personal revelation about how there aren't very many fics where both Alucard and Trevor are trans

“You’re very sweaty.”

Trevor’s stubble tickles against his neck. Usually the feeling brings Alucard comfort, a reminder that he’s never too far away, but now it causes the unbearable warmth creeping across his cheeks to grow hotter. Everything feels wet; his backside, forehead, even places that don’t usually get wet except under very, very specific circumstances.

This moment just so happens to be one of those circumstances.

“I thought you were asleep.” Alucard head sinks further into the damp pillow while one arm wraps around Trevor.

“It’s hard when you keep fidgeting like that,” he mumbles into his skin, barely opening an eye. “Not that I don’t like having a pillow that moves and breathes.”

He’s right; Alucard can’t lie still. Not while his lower abdomen aches and something between his legs won’t stop twitching. Then there’s all the sweat; he’d make some excuse about the unnecessary blankets but there’s only one and it’s thinner than the finest linen.

“I just feel a bit hot, that’s all.”

He could tell Trevor the truth; the worst thing he could do is laugh and claim he’s taking advantage of what little a Belmont like him knows about vampire or half-vampire biology. Or perhaps there’s still some part of Alucard that feels a twinge of embarrassment whenever he thinks about it. He previously survived each yearly spell the old-fashioned way: by being left to his own devices. He’s lost count of how many times the muscles in his hand strained themselves or seized up entirely. Now that he has a partner—two in fact—things seem more complicated when they shouldn’t. In theory, they should be easier.

Trevor adjusts his position, eyes drowsy while his bed hair seems to defy the logistics of gravity. He presses his forehead against Alucard, lips close enough for a kiss. Alucard almost catches them against his own until Trevor backs away.

“You do feel warm, and your face looks red, but it’s not a fever.”

“Such an apt diagnosis. Anything else you’d like to comment on, doctor?”

“Actually, yeah…” He cocks his head to the side, like a curious pup. Or a coy fox ready to play with his mate. “I recognize that blush.”

“… My blush.” Alucard feels another twitch between his legs, which he won’t be able to hide for much longer. Fine then, he’ll see where the Belmont takes this query of his.

“It’s that same look you had during our first time.”

His determination to match Trevor’s cockiness falters. This first time he refers to could very well be some relic of a distant past, yet he recalls the event all too vividly. A fond memory he likes to revisit—often. It was awkward and quick at first (Alucard mocked Trevor’s clumsiness when he tried removing his clothes until the dhampir himself fell victim to the exact same blunder), but that’s not what he remembers most. He remembers the physical satisfaction and fullness that made him repeat Trevor’s name until he nearly forgot his own. Slick skin upon skin, fingers into mouths, a sense of warmth dripping between his unsteady legs, and how there was pleasure in ending their first affair in utter happy exhaustion. Not even Trevor’s empty threat of blackmail over how silly his smile looked was enough to deter his bliss.

If this night is the same, Alucard might as well drop dead the next day and it would be the happiest death one could be blessed with.

Trevor examines all other pieces of evidence: his perspiration, his inability to keep immobile, and the shortness in breath. He furrows his brow, not sure if what he’s about to say next is a ridiculous assumption or a brilliant theory. “Are you in heat?”

The way in which Alucard doesn’t answer, doesn’t make eye contact, and bites his lower lip, says enough. “I thought only alleycats did that… you’re not going to start meowing, are you?”

“Not unless you really want me to.” _Adrian Tepes, would you please shut the fuck up._ He braces for the inevitable burst of ignorant laughter, but all he receives is an amused chuckle. Not the worst thing to hear.

“How bad does it get?”

“... Depends.”

“Is it bad now?”

Alucard is tempted to reply with “would you like to find out?” Until he’s interrupted by another comment from Trevor.

“You know there’s an easy solution to this.”

“Is there now?” His stubble and lips tickle around the crook of his neck, down to the top of his chest left exposed by the nightgown’s loose neckline. Soft and rough together, driving him mad. “You’re not tired?”

“Mm, not really. I’m happy to help…” His hand charts a lazy short-lived course along Alucard’s stomach. Another twitch, another deep ache. There will be more to come, and he’s barely gotten started. “But only if you’ve been good.”

“Is that a trick question?” Alucard’s breath suddenly hitches when Trevor takes the skin of his chest between both lips, leaving behind more than just a kiss. He’s certain that he’ll look himself in the mirror next morning and see dozens of red marks. No longer a blank canvas waiting for his lover’s brushstrokes.

“Just a yes or no one.”

“... I have.”

Trevor isn’t convinced, so he wants Alucard to try again. “What was that? You’ve been what?” He takes the nightgown strings between his teeth. Pulling slowly, unlacing it, he reveals his whole chest, scar and all. His attempts at seduction coupled with foreplay have unfortunately elicited mixed reactions from Alucard. Sometimes the mere sound of his rugged voice will tempt his legs to spread wider, but oftentimes Trevor will speak, and any sense of arousal dies a slow, sad death. It’s lucky that this kind of exposure further excites him.

“I’ve been good.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Trevor’s lips find their way towards one nipple while a hand fondles his opposite breast. He kisses, licks, and sucks in a tender manner, savouring how someone with seemingly hard edges could feel and taste so heavenly. Alucard holds the back of Trevor’s head, unable to keep down his gasps as both breasts are stroked and teased. It’s always the teasing that sends him so much closer to the edge. Now, it feels like the most wonderful torture.

Trevor uses his entire mouth, moaning as he enters his own state of pleasure. He only stops when he finally notices something he missed before.

“Now I know you’re really in heat,” he says after each breath. “You’re so sensitive.” Gently, he takes Alucard’s nipple between his thumb and finger while cupping the same breast. Before he has a chance to rub or squeeze, it hardens. “I’ve never seen this kind of reaction just from this.”

Alucard should remind him, same as many other instances in the past, that he needs to be using his mouth for absolutely anything other than talking. As though reading his mind, Trevor’s fingers move underneath the nightgown, happy to stroke the smooth insides of his thighs while his lips continue their worship. Further up they wander, brushing over the swollen clit before rubbing slow, tender circles around the sensitive piece of flesh.

“See? You’re already wet.”

It’s hard to come up with some witty repartee when Trevor quite literally holds him in the palm of his hand, edging him towards release. It’s even harder maintaining any rational thought, especially when his two fingers slide themselves so easily inside. First the tips, followed by each knuckle, moving in and out, then curling to find that one spot which makes Alucard buck his hips. With a free hand, Trevor discards the sweat-drenched bedsheets, pleased with the unobscured sight before him.

“Mhm… oh, oh fuck…” Something drips out after every methodical stroke; they’ll have to do a thorough wash once they’re done. Alucard doesn’t care about the future state of their bed. Breaking the frame or having the entire thing collapse under joined movements; none of it would matter. All that matters is how much deeper Trevor can go.

This slow, steady routine changes when Alucard is opened up wider, stretched and filled. His mind blanks, hands clutch at the mattress as he’s reduced to pleasured whines. He forces his eyes open and sees a particularly proud expression gracing Trevor’s calm face.

“Didn’t think I could fit in three fingers.”

“Is… fuck… fuck… is that what you’re doing?”

His confidence quickly turns into concern. “I can stop if you want.”

“Don’t… you dare… fucking stop—AHH!” Alucard can’t think of anything more meaningful to say other than “fuck”. So warm and so wet; he might have already come, but it’s hard to tell. He clumsily pulls the nightgown over his head, glad to finally be rid of it. Every inch of his body flushes pink, including between his legs.

Suddenly, he’s empty. Still open and begging, but all three fingers have been pulled out. Alucard’s disappointment is just strong enough to feel like betrayal. His clit throbs as his chest heaves. The ache in his belly won’t leave. He very nearly grabs Trevor’s hand, fingers dripping with his own come, and demands more.

“Was that enough? Or should we keep going?”

“You really can’t tell? I thought you were smarter than that, Trevor.”

Alucard realizes he was only asking for the necessary consent, as one should always. His comment now sounds a touch meaner than intended. Overstimulation must be at fault; he can’t think straight and gives into impulses without much hesitation while in heat. Trevor, thankfully, doesn’t seem too wounded as he kisses Alucard slow and deep. He always loved that contrast between his rough stubble and the surprising softness of his lips and tongue.

“That’s all you had to say.”

“What? How I think you’re smarter than that?”

“Just sit still for one minute.”

A foolish, borderline idiotic thing to ask of Alucard right now but he watches Trevor crawl across the bed and rummage through the night table drawer. To keep aroused while waiting, he lightly strokes his groin though it soon proves to be unnecessary. With one hand, Trevor removes his night trousers; in the other, he holds a stout phallic device attached to leather straps.

“Sypha’s going to get mad at you again.”

“Her name isn’t on it. And yes, it’s been cleaned.”

 _Well, thank goodness for that._ “But she did purchase it as a gift for herself.”

“Unless you’d rather settle for some more fingers, I can accommodate. It’d be a lot more boring, though.”

“Just say the word and I can craft our own. That way we don’t have to keep borrowing other people’s belongings.”

“Sharing is caring. Now up onto your knees. Please and thank you.”

There’s too much lightness in his tone for it to sound like an order. For Trevor, he’s doesn’t take sex that seriously. If his partner—whether Sypha or Alucard—never smiles or laughs while in the utter throes of pleasure, he’s done it all wrong. Then at least they can both agree on one thing about him; he makes them laugh. Alucard sits up, shaking like a newborn lamb as Trevor takes his place after strapping the device onto all the proper body parts; thighs, waists, and groin. Leaning against the bed frame, he wets his makeshift cock with a healthy amount of lubricant—another good thing to have in one’s nightstand.

“You look rather hedonistic.” Alucard points out in delight, looking over his shoulder at Trevor. Placing both knees on either side of his outstretched legs, he lowers himself and begins grinding his still throbbing clit along Trevor’s thigh. The only things he can see are Alucard’s long cascade of flaxen waves, broad shoulders, smooth backside, and his relaxed buttocks all moving in sync.

“You’re one to talk.” Grabbing his waist, Trevor brings him closer so that he and the phallic device are aligned. Then carefully, listening to every moan and gasp out of Alucard, he enters him inch by inch before giving him a moment to adjust. When he does, Trevor guides him up then back down on his cock at an agonizing pace.

“Shit…” He exhales, using a free hand to run his fingers through each lock of hair. “Remember our first time? We were both a bit tight… now you’re so loose and soft inside… you look so fucking good.”

“Even when my back is to you?”

“Actually…” Trevor licks his lips, putting more strength into his thrusts. Skin slapping against skin as Alucard’s pleasured whines pleading for more, always more, spill out. “I think I might prefer this view of you.”

“You are a prick, Trevor Belmont…” A small “but” escapes mixed with desperate attempts to voice more sounds of ecstasy.

“But what?”

“But… I love you, you idiot. I love you so fucking much…”

Trevor could give into temptation and claim the only reason why Alucard screams “I love you” is because he’s being so well fucked by a leather cock. Instead, he hoists himself up, wrapping both arms around the dhampir’s abdomen for support, and places kiss upon kiss on his back shoulder.

“I love you too.”

No reluctance, only sincerity. He says it with another generous thrust of his hips.

As Alucard unravels in his arms, there are other things he wants to tell him. How before he met Sypha when she was still encased in stone against her will and before their blades clashed together, Trevor never saw much point in living to his fullest ability. He kept himself breathing of course, only because it was the last thing which he still had control over. Yet the prospect of committed relationships—friends, lovers, people he could eventually tack his family name onto—none of it was meant for him. That way everyone would be happy; not himself, but others.

Alone, you can’t hurt anyone. Alone, no one can hurt you.

Now there is a point to his life. Trevor hugs Alucard’s wet trembling body against his own and savours every whimper that crescendos into an exclamation of rapture. He’s deep inside this stubborn, easily agitated, beautiful, contemplative, witty man and he has difficulty accepting it. Not only that, he shares this man with an equally brilliant and beautiful woman who must never be trifled with. The sheer amount of power his two lovers possess quite frankly terrifies and excites Trevor. Yet they melt under his touch and he under theirs.

Alucard releases one final cry, throwing his head back while almost giving Trevor a concussion in the process. Gentle spasms wrack his limbs as he lets out another prolonged meek groan. It’s disappointing that Trevor has to withdraw, but all good things do come to an eventual end. He drops onto the bed, unable to see, unable to focus. The ache in his gut subsides but the scene between his legs and anus is a messy one. Wet, dripping, and swollen. He’ll have some difficulty walking in the morning—he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Trevor draws Alucard into an embrace, resting him against his chest while each deep breath helps bring him back to the present moment. He smiles, calm and at ease.

“What about you?”

“Hm? What about me?”

“You never got to finish yourself…” He takes his previous assurance back; part of Alucard might have refocused but the other half might still be off wandering somewhere else. Trevor responds firstly with an amused scoff and a kiss to his forehead.

“This wasn’t about me. How’re you feeling now?”

“Better. Not as…”

“Uptight? Fidgety?”

“I was going to say hot but those work as well.” Every word betrays Alucard’s gleeful exhaustion. They both should sleep well tonight. “Remember to take that off and put it back before Sypha notices.”

“I don’t know.” Trevor raises an arm over his head, trying to present himself as smugly as possible. “I think it suits me, don’t you?”

Alucard is now thoroughly convinced; come morning, he’ll gather the materials needed to make their very own toys. For now, he nuzzles against Trevor’s broad chest and doesn’t dwell on how much they need to clean themselves before they pass out and become dead to the world.

“One last thing… how often does this happen?”

“Don’t get so ahead of yourself.”

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written anything NSFW in years and it really shows


End file.
